


Apricots

by Teddy1008



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, Fluff, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, M/M, Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Pining, Pining Peter Parker, Sexual Tension, Soft Peter Parker, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy1008/pseuds/Teddy1008
Summary: Due to mysterious circumstances, Peter and Aunt May move to the countryside to stay at Howard and Tony’s cottage for the next six months. Peter really didn’t mean to fall in love with Tony.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Apricots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [professional_benaddict](https://archiveofourown.org/users/professional_benaddict/gifts).



> hello all! this is for my dear friend rafni, who's always been so sweet and kind to me. i was going to write a cute littlespace oneshot for you but never managed to finish it :( when i do though,, you'l be getting another gift from me :') i hope you like this bb <3
> 
> just a heads up that this is currently unfinished with little chance of me adding more to it. 
> 
> special thanks to [@unsettledink](https://unsettledink.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this months ago. much appreciated <3

“Don’t look so sad, Pete. We discussed this, remember? It’s not the end of the world; you’ll be able to adjust.”

The sound of Aunt May’s voice made him look up from the sketchbook onto which he’d been scratching a small doodle of a puppy running around its mother. His eyes locked onto hers through the rearview mirror and, for her sake, he tried to put a smile on his face. 

“Okay,” he said, voice softer than he’d intended. “I know. It’s just weird.” He looked out the window and was met with the sight of the greenest grass he’d ever seen, speckled with pink and purple flowers in the field. They passed by a small pond, the sun reflecting so brightly off the water that it made Peter squint. 

“I know, honey.” Aunt May sighed, and Peter’s lips twitched upwards when he realized that Aunt May was the one who sounded gloomy now. “Remember, if things turn out right, we’ll be able to go back to New York. For now, it’s this cottage.”

As if on cue, they pulled up in front of a small, cozy-looking thing, perched on the edge of the woods. Peter couldn’t help the way he stared with an open mouth; it looked like it was straight out of a fairytale with the soft billow of smoke rising from the chimney and ivy crawling up the stone walls, following indistinguishable patterns. 

“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” Aunt May smiled, but it didn’t hide the anxious glimmer in her eyes as she turned to look at Peter, trying to gauge his reaction. 

Peter nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed. “It is pretty nice. And quiet.” It was definitely going to be a change from New York. 

“Yep.” Aunt May exhaled, and Peter noticed that she had considerably paled. Maybe it had finally hit her just how different their lives would be now. “But you know, you won’t be lonely. Howard has a lovely son. Very, very bright young man. Almost as bright as you, I bet. He’s around your age.”

Peter smiled at the compliment, and May smiled tenderly back. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t interested in making friends. He wanted everything to fast forward six months, when they would hopefully be back in their familiar NYC apartment, as old and small as it was. 

“Should we get out?”

They both scooted out of the car without another word, Peter shoving his sketchbook and pencil into his bag before heaving it over his shoulders. He hurried to the back of the car to help Aunt May pull out their luggage. They hadn’t had too many things to bring; most of Peter’s belongings were from when he went dumpster diving every Tuesday evening anyways. 

Just as he shut the trunk, he heard a loud voice boom from ahead. “May? Is that you?”

Peter looked up as May grinned and rushed over to a slim-figured man, shaking hands with him. He dragged their suitcases over and greeted the stranger with a small smile.

“Oh, this must be your boy! Peter, right?” 

Peter nodded, and shook his hand. “Yes, Sir. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, don’t call me sir; makes me feel old. It’s Howard.”

“Alright, S — Howard.” Peter released his hand, desperately wanting to wipe the sweat off of his brow. It was warmer today than he’d expected it to be; if only he could take off his sweatshirt. 

“We were just tidying up the cottage for you,” Howard was saying, looking eagerly at Peter and May. “Anthony and I, I mean. It was a bit too chilly inside—surprising, I know, considering how it is outside—so we just got the fireplace to do its job.” He gestured at the chimney, which promptly spat out another billow of smoke. “He’s still inside, just making sure everything is in place for you two.” 

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to the trouble of—”

“May, May! Of course we did.” Howard waved a hand, dismissing May’s response. “It’s your home for the next few months and you’re our guests. You should head inside, make sure everything’s okay before we leave. I’ll take those, son, don’t worry about it.” He gestured for the suitcases in Peter’s hand, and Peter hesitantly passed them over to the man. 

He followed May inside, pausing to take off his shoes. The hardwood floors creaked beneath his socked feet and he looked down, curling his toes inwards before relaxing them again. He jumped when Howard entered, brushing past him as the door closed behind him.

Howard turned around and shot a smile at him. “Go upstairs; I think Anthony’s there. He’ll show you your room. And if he doesn’t, tell him to learn some manners.” 

Peter couldn’t help but smile at that, and he looked down to hide it, not sure if Howard had been serious or not. He headed to the flight of stairs on his left and made his way upstairs, taking in his surroundings. 

On the last step, he stopped. There were three doors on his left, both closed, and one on his right, this one slightly ajar. However, before he had to decide where to go, the door on his right swung open, and out stepped—

“Oh.” The boy blinked at Peter, a look of surprise on his face.

Peter blinked back. He awkwardly raised a hand. “Hi.” He hated his social skills. “You’re, uh. Are you Anthony?”

The boy’s face contorted a bit, looking pained. “Tony,” he corrected. “Only my dad calls me that. Even though I tell him not to.” The last part was mumbled, so Peter chose to disregard it. 

Instead, he opted for climbing the last stair before he said, “I’m Peter.”

“I know. Dad told me about you.” Tony rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Um, I was just cleaning up my room.  _ Your _ room, I mean.” He rubbed the back of his head now. “Sorry. I promise it’s clean. If you see any metal parts under your bed, just ignore it, it’s for a… project. Okay, I’m gonna stop talking now.” He exhaled, and Peter stared at him. “Make yourself at home,” Tony blurted out, before he practically ran past Peter and down the stairs. 

Well then. 

Peter cocked his head, then shook it and headed for the room— _ his _ room. He stepped inside and blinked. Tony had opened a window for him, curtains pulled aside, which he was grateful for, because it was a bit musty, like the room had been deprived of sunlight for a long while. 

There was a small desk in the corner of the room, littered with small little objects that clearly belonged to Tony, paired with a stool. A twin sized bed. A closet. Nightstand. And a… violin? It was propped against the wall, its bow placed neatly behind it. Speckled dust decorated its brown sheathe like freckles. Huh. The room was nice. Lots of sunlight; Peter liked that. It was better than what he had in New York, he supposed. Maybe he’d even grow to miss it when they moved back. 

For now, he headed back outside and checked out the other three doors. One was another bedroom, slightly bigger but evidently unused judging from the lack of personal belongings. The other was a bathroom. The last one was locked, so he gave up quickly. 

When Peter went downstairs and peered into the living room from afar, he was greeted with the sight of two armchairs, both of them occupied—one by May, and the other by Howard. They were talking and smiling. Tony was nowhere to be seen. Not that he cared.

He was about to explore the house further when May called, “Pete!” effectively catching his attention.

Peter popped his head around the corner, lingering around the door frame so that only half of his body could be seen. “Yeah?” When May levelled a look at him, he hastily entered, albeit a bit sheepishly. 

“Howard was just telling me he takes his son fishing every evening. He invited us to go with them tonight; it’ll be fun, won’t it?” May looked at him, almost too hopefully. Peter knew she wanted him to be happy; she was probably worrying that he was miserable with his life right now. Which wasn’t too far off, but he had no intention of voicing that to her. 

There was only one right answer to her question. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sounds fun. Thanks, Sir. Howard.”

Howard flashed him a thumbs up and Peter excused himself to move to the kitchen. He stopped when he saw Tony there, taking the dishes out of the dishwasher and placing them in the cupboards. Tony hadn’t noticed him yet. 

It felt silly to step back outside, so Peter entered, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. He opened the fridge door and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony jump a little. He could feel the other teen’s eyes burning into his back, but he ignored it, instead pulling out a jug of what looked like orange juice. 

“Here.” 

Peter gingerly took the glass from Tony’s hand. “Thanks.” 

Now that they were standing closer to each other, he had the opportunity to look at Tony’s face and appreciate every inch of it. And just. Wow. Dark hair that stuck up in little tufts, like it had been ceaselessly played with. Brownish doe eyes that glowed golden in the sunlight. Soft lips. He had a really pretty face, Peter noted. Like,  _ really  _ pretty. His gaze moved up to Tony’s eyes and they met, brown against brown. 

It was that moment that Peter realized he was in love with an absolute stranger. 

He came back to his senses and realizing that he was staring, Peter flushed bright red—he could feel his cheeks heating up—and hurriedly poured himself a drink. “Do you want some?” he asked, looking up.

Tony looked as though he had been jerked out a trance. “Huh? Oh. Nah, I’m okay. Too sweet for my taste.”

Peter took a sip, and swallowed hard, spluttering a bit at the end; turned out, it was apricot juice, not orange. “Oh, god, yeah. That’s really sweet. Too much sugar.”

Tony was staring at him. “Actually, there’s no sugar in that.” 

Peter blinked stupidly. “What?” 

Tony dropped his gaze, shrugging. “It’s freshly squeezed. I usually go get them from the trees in the early morning before the animals do.”

“Oh. That’s cool.” Peter winced.  _ Great going,  _ he scolded, annoyed with himself.  _ You suck at conversation.  _

“Yeah, it is. Uh, you should join me one day. Unless—”

“That’s great, yeah, I’d love to,” Peter blurted out, then flushed when he realized he’d interrupted the other boy’s words. “Just let me know when.”

“Gotcha.” Tony hesitated, lips slightly parting like he wanted to say more, and Peter waited, holding his breath. In the end, Tony left the kitchen without another word. 

Peter totally didn’t stare at his ass on the way out. 

* * *

It was when he placed his last sketchbook on the shelf that Peter decided the room was finally to his liking. Of course, he knew it wasn’t his, not permanently anyways, so he’d made sure to leave Tony’s items where they were, minus the small little things on the desk. Those, he’d just pushed aside, figuring Tony wouldn’t mind. They were just little scraps of metal, like Tony had warned.

He found a stack of sheet music in the drawer, and he set it out on top of the dresser to replace its place with his clothes. He felt a bit stuffy in his current outfit, so he changed into a pair of denim shorts and a white shirt. 

There was a knock at his door, and he looked up sharply. “Come in,” he called. He released the breath he’d been holding when May entered. “Hi.”

May smiled and shut the door behind her. “How are you finding things?” she asked. “I know it’s a change from New York, but Howard has been trying very hard to make sure we’re comfortable here.”

“I know,” Peter responded. He sat down on the bed and it softly creaked in response. “It’s fine. It’s nice to hear birds without cars.”

May laughed. “Yeah. So, I was thinking of getting some dinner with Howard; he said he knows a really nice place nearby. We’re planning on bringing back some food. Do you wanna come with us?”

Peter hesitated. Three words bubbled at the back of his throat, desperate to escape.  _ Is Tony going?  _ But instead, when he opened his mouth, all that came out was, “I’m actually a bit tired. Maybe next time.”

May smiled understandingly. She ruffled his hair, and left the room without another word. 

Peter fell backwards onto the bed with a soft “oomph.” He grabbed his phone, found that it was dead, and groaned. He was too lazy to get up. He slipped it back into his pocket, and grabbed one of his old sketchbooks that he’d left on the desk. As he flipped through it, he heard the familiar roar of a car engine starting, and figured that May and Howard—and maybe Tony—were leaving. Sure enough, when he peeked outside the window, a red mustang drove away. 

Peter stayed where he was for a few minutes before he couldn’t take the silence anymore. He got up and swung the door open and—oh.

Tony stared from opposite of him, eyes wide, as if he hadn’t been expecting Peter to be in the house. The only thing that separated them was the staircase. He was in the room that had been locked earlier, Peter realized. He still couldn’t see what was inside; Tony hadn’t opened the door wide enough. 

_ Say something.  _ The silence was killing him. “Uh, hey. I was just about to go downstairs for some… water.” Peter was an idiot. 

“Oh.” Tony blinked. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Peter hesitated, and then made his way down the stairs, feet slapping on the wood, sounding far too loud in the quiet of the cottage now that Howard and May had left, leaving a void so big that it almost hurt physically to bear it. 

He grabbed himself a glass of water after a bit of searching, trying to figure out what the hell to do.

He wasn’t the biggest social person; he didn’t really talk to other people. He sucked at it, actually. At the most, they would talk and he would listen. Clearly, Tony wasn’t much different from him, and that was what made everything so painfully awkward. 

Fuck it. Maybe it was a sign for him to start coming out of his shell. He liked Tony (and his face), so it was a good place to start. 

But when he went back upstairs, he found that the door was now shut, Tony nowhere to be seen.

Peter didn’t bother seeing if it was locked; he knew it was.

So he made his way back to his room, and shut the door behind him.

The silence loomed over the cottage once more.

* * *

Peter was relieved when he heard the front door swing open. Figuring it had to be May and Howard, he headed downstairs. Then he stopped in his tracks, absolutely shocked. 

A girl stood there, looking around awkwardly, her blonde hair wet with a strand plastered to her forehead, as if she had only just recently gotten out of a pool. When Peter came downstairs, she turned her gaze to him, and then smiled brightly. She drew the large towel wrapped around her body a bit tighter. “Is Tony here?”

Peter stared. “Upstairs.”

“Thanks.” She brushed past him.

Peter stood there, not daring to move even an inch. Had he just seen something he wasn’t supposed to? 

God, he was so stupid. 

He should’ve known that Tony wasn’t… gay. Hell, why had he even assumed so in the first place? Or maybe he was bi, not gay? Or maybe Peter was just doing what he always did, giving himself false hope over things that weren’t even his business. 

He clenched his jaw tightly when he heard Tony’s door open. His voice was too low for Peter to hear what he said, but clearly it was something good, because the girl laughed before the door was shut after her.

Not a minute later, there was a thumping noise and muffled laughter ringing through the cottage.

Peter wanted to  _ die. _

* * *

“So, you said it’s mostly trout, right?”

Peter trudged along the trail, his flip flops occasionally squeaking when he stepped on a rock. He tuned out Howard’s answer; he’d never really been interested in fishing but he hadn’t wanted to be rude and decline. 

May and Howard were leisurely strolling together, May asking questions and Howard answering them. Tony had jogged ahead. Not that Peter minded. He could barely look at him without remembering what had happened earlier.

It didn’t take them long to reach their fishing place. It was nice, Peter mused, taking in his surroundings. The lake was big and shimmered several shades of blue. They had passed by it while driving up to the cottage. Peter watched as Howard set down two fishing chairs. He quietly sat down next to them on the ground. 

“You don’t want to sit on the chair, son?”

Peter looked up in surprise. “No, I’m alright,” he assured Howard. He fisted his hands in the grass. “It actually feels kinda nice to be sitting on something other than pavement.”

Howard laughed. “Alright, alright, that’s fair.” He gestured to the other seat. “May.” 

Tony made quick work of the fishing poles, casting them all into the lake and positioning them so they wouldn’t fall. Peter caught himself staring at Tony’s rippling arm muscles and he mentally berated himself.  _ Bad,  _ he scolded.  _ Girl, remember? Stop staring. _

Howard spread his arms wide open, grinning rather proudly. “Well? What do you think?” 

“It’s beautiful,” May said softly. 

“It’s even better when the sun starts to set,” Tony piped up cheerfully. “It’s like the perfect place to take your partner to.”

Peter stiffened.  _ Shut up.  _ The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his big fat crush on a guy who was more than likely to be straight. 

There was a small conversation between May and Howard about when he’d first started fishing, but it died down a few minutes later. They all sat there for a while in silence, appreciating the gentle croons of nature.

Suddenly, Tony straightened up and announced, “It’s too hot!” making them all blink out of the daze they’d been under. “Too hot,” he muttered again, and before they knew it, Tony jumped into the lake with a big splash, dotting their clothes with water.

Howard yelped. “Anthony!” he spluttered. “You’re gonna scare them all away! Stop that, you savage.”

Tony grinned, shaking his head aggressively like a dog, splattering Peter again. “Not like you were actually trying anyways. You just wanted to put on a show for our guests,” he teased. He climbed back out, rubbing his hands over his face. “God, that feels good.”

Peter suddenly found the grass much more interesting than the outline of Tony’s abs through his wet shirt. Totally. He had to hold in a sigh.

This was going to be a tough six months.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please feel free to let me know what you thought and visit me on my [tumblr!](https://estelsberry.tumblr.com)


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